


Icarus

by shirosquared



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Black Paladin Keith (Voltron), Fever, Gen, Pre-Season/Series 03, Sickfic, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 01:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14905979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirosquared/pseuds/shirosquared
Summary: Keith struggles to cope with Shiro's disappearance and his newfound burden as the Black Paladin.In doing so, he might've overdone it a bit. But it was just a headache, he could still lead the mission.





	Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> **Anonymous asked:** congrats on your milestone!! Could you write a Keith sick fic (gen)?
> 
> * * *
> 
> I meant to write these a long long time ago, but now that school’s over and I’m nearly to 700 followers I figured I’d finish these up!
> 
> This one kind of had a mind of its own... not as much Keith being sick as I necessarily would’ve liked but here’s my attempt at writing a sick fic feat. Black Paladin Keith + finding Shiro!
> 
> Small fun fact: I started writing this fic back in January.

Being the Black Paladin was exhausting.

Black didn't listen to Keith in the way that Red did, Black only allowed him what was necessary. And in some ways, it was a relief. He felt that if he ever unlocked those powers, it'd mean that Shiro was _really_ gone. That he'd be somewhere beyond their reach, and they'd have to stumble on without him leading them.

Keith needed to fit the role of a Black Paladin. It required patience he didn't have, conversational skills he didn't have, and the ability to direct the others in battle, which tended to be on a case-by-case basis.

It'd helped him realize a lot, though it hadn’t helped him improve any. So maybe he spent some extra time fighting the gladiator, maybe he spent time trying to look into diplomacy when Allura wasn't looking over his shoulder. Maybe he slept less than he should.

It wasn't much of a surprise when he woke up with a headache after a terrible dream the previous night that left him reeling for the better part of an hour. But it was just a headache, he'd fought through much worse before. Keith got to his feet and stretched, relieving some of the tension in his muscles before heading to the kitchen.

Everyone else was already there, though it didn't look like they'd been there for long. Keith headed to his usual seat, leaving the one at the end empty. It had gone unspoken between them that that seat was Shiro’s, despite the varying degrees of hope for his return.

“Good morning,” Allura greeted, her tone pleasant. It was impossible to like mornings. Well, no, that was a lie—Keith liked the quiet of the mornings, and being able to watch everything come to life under the sun’s rays back home, but he hated waking up. Either way, he nodded in response and took his seat, glancing around at the others.

Pidge looked up from her computer to nod at him before turning back to her work. Ever since Shiro disappeared, Pidge had thrown herself completely into her work as if a solution or clue would vanish if she didn’t constantly monitor it.

There had been clues. Brief leads that led to nothing, or that horrifying moment when Keith realized they’d been led directly into an ambush. They all nearly died several times, and Pidge nearly ended up in Galra custody after a shot took out the Green Lion.

Needless to say, they didn’t follow those clues anymore. They searched for other evidence instead, a reason to believe that it wasn’t just another trap.

It killed Keith inside. He hated the idea that they might let go of a trail that would’ve actually led to finding Shiro, he hated the idea of not _acting_. They needed to do _something_ or else Keith would go insane. He was horrible at plans and strategy—he often left that to Allura and Lance, pitching in whenever necessary but otherwise letting them direct the planning.

When everything inevitably fell apart, however, Keith knew exactly what to do. And maybe it was strange, but he grew to look forward to those moments. The times when he actually knew what he was doing, when he was so hyperfocused on his surroundings that he didn’t have time to think about anything else. His mind would remain blissfully blank until he came down from the post-victory adrenaline high, and then everything came crashing down, leaving him scrambling again.

So maybe he was stressed. Maybe he should’ve slept more, but after a particularly harsh battle sleep never came easy. His dreams had been plagued with the idea of what might’ve happened if Keith hadn’t been able to cover Lance when his shield shattered and he _fell_ —down and down and Keith could almost—

“Keith,” a voice said quietly. Keith started, staring wide-eyed at the speaker. Hunk, it was just Hunk. “You feeling okay?” Hunk asked. “You’re kinda bending the spoon a bit.”

Spoon? Keith looked down at the table, a bent spoon gripped tightly in lightly trembling hands. Oh. “Oh,” he murmured. “I’m… just a nightmare. I’m fine.”

Hunk nodded, not pressing any further, and Keith was grateful for that. “Take it easy,” he warned. In hindsight, Keith probably should’ve listened. But they’d barely finished their breakfast when the alarm went off, highlighting everything in red as the siren blared. The paladins ran out of the hall, quickly changing into their armor and taking the ziplines down to their lions.

They’d been found, despite Allura’s best efforts to find them a safe place to hide out for a few days. The Galra were relentless. They fought dirty, using anything and everything at their disposal no matter who they hurt. Victory or death was their motto, after all, and it seemed even the Galra that fought against Zarkon still employed that mentality. Victory or death. Knowledge or death. What did it matter? They usually ended up dead either way.

When had Keith started thinking like that? He had no idea, and that scared him more than anything else.

One by one the lions exited their hangars, quickly shifting into formation as each paladin surveyed their field of vision.

 _“Pidge, Hunk, you two take the left side,”_ Allura said. _“Lance and I are on the right. Keith, you’re to provide support where necessary. There’s too many of them for us to form Voltron.”_ As everyone split, Keith couldn’t help but feel that he’d been taken out of the fight for a reason. Logically, he knew he wasn’t out of the fight. Support was just as important as the front lines, but he hated sitting on the sidelines while others fought at the front—especially those close to him.

Regardless, he kept up his role. He fired from the sky, but the Black Lion sapped at his energy like a black void, sucking and pulling everything until nothing was left. Keith grimaced, breathing in harsh pants even though he hadn’t done much. Why was he so exhausted? He’d been fine on less sleep before. His head pounded, another effect of the late night.

 _“Keith, your nine!”_ The Black Lion swerved to avoid a stray laser shot, and Keith narrowed his eyes before diving into the fray with renewed vigor. Shiro wouldn’t want him to give up, so he couldn’t. Not in the heat of battle, when everyone was depending on him to have his shit together.

“Thanks, Lance!” He shot past the Red Lion, jaw blade already forming as he sliced through a crowd of fighters.

 _“Keith, what are you doing?”_ Pidge snapped, irritation clear in her tone. Keith didn’t answer her, pushing forward more on the levers to gain more speed. The Black Lion growled, tearing through the battlecruiser and watching it explode. He moved onto the next, gripping the controls like a lifeline.

_“Keith, you’re splitting up the team!”_

And then, quietly…

_“...hello?”_

The line went silent, before everyone was shouting all at once.

_“Shiro!”_

_“Oh my god, Shiro, where are you?”_

_“Was that Shiro?”_

_“Shiro, please answer us!”_

_“I… yes. I’m here. What’s going on?”_

Keith breathed, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Shiro. Do you know where you are?”

_“Um… I can see Black.”_

Keith shuddered as a chill ran down his spine. He didn’t think that was from Shiro. “Tell me more. Where are you?”

_“To your right. There’s like… a window, or something. Near a big hole.”_

“I see the hole. I’m heading over to you. Lance, cover me!”

 _“You got it,”_ Lance responded.

Keith exited the Black Lion and propelled himself the remaining few feet into the hole, looking around. “Shiro!”

Shiro himself stood at the end of the hall, turning and smiling when he saw Keith. He had his helmet on, but it was the only piece of armor he had. Keith started to run towards Shiro, but a wave of dizziness overtook him. His stomach rebelled, threatening to expel its contents as the world spun around him. He gasped, unable to stay upright. He collapsed, Shiro yelling something as his senses bled away into darkness.

When Keith woke up, the first thing he recognized was the pain. His skull pounded, as if someone were using a jackhammer on his head. He was freezing cold, despite the multiple blankets piled on top of him.

“Hey.”

Keith did a double-take, because that couldn’t be real—

“You really scared us, you know.” And Keith’s heart skipped a beat, because this was _Shiro_ , he was _here_ and _alive_. He tried to sit up, but Shiro put a hand on his shoulder. And that was that, because Keith felt kitten weak and couldn’t beat Shiro in strength on a good day. Which this definitely was not.

He let his head fall against the pillow again and closed his eyes, sighing.

“How are you feeling?” Shiro asked.

“Like I got hit by a bus,” Keith muttered.

“That’s what you get for going on a mission while you’re feverish,” Shiro said mildly, putting a hand on his forehead.

“I’m not—” Shiro’s hand felt ice cold, and it gave so much relief to the ache in his head. He leaned into the touch, groaning softly. So maybe he was a little feverish.

“Easy. Coran said you’ve got the flu. Well… not _really_ the flu, but I can’t pronounce what he actually said and it’s basically the flu for humans.”

Keith sniffled. “‘M not sick.”

“Right, and my name isn’t Shirogane Takashi.”

“Depends on which way you write it,” he retorted.

Shiro just raised an eyebrow in response.

Keith huffed. “Fine.”

“We’re trying to find something that’ll help you out, but in the meantime you’ll be stuck here.”

“Great.” Keith pressed his face into Shiro’s hand again, which still lingered nearby. He might be sick, but things could be worse. He had Shiro back, and the rest of the team would likely be by soon. He may have overworked himself a bit in his search for Shiro, but in the end he’d succeeded, hadn’t he?

Keith thought he could get used to this.


End file.
